Colton Undercover

by Marie Ferrarella

  Even though he did get her pulse up several notches, she’d been studying him at the same time. He wasn’t uncomplicated by any means.

  “That’s probably because you don’t talk very much about yourself, preferring to have people monopolize the conversation talking about themselves,” Leonor astutely observed.

  This woman promised to keep him on his toes, Josh thought.

  “Touché,” Josh said with a laugh. “But, just so you know, I was taught that talking about myself was the height of conceit—that’s why I’d rather listen than talk. But if there’s something you’d like to ask me, go right ahead,” he encouraged. “Ask.”

  All right, she had a question for him, Leonor thought.

  “What are you really doing here, Josh?” she wanted to know.

  His smile was quick. “That’s easy. Soaking up the atmosphere.”

  How dumb did he think she was? “Shadow Creek doesn’t have any ‘atmosphere,’” she countered. At least not the kind that would interest someone like Joshua Pendergrass. She waited for his next move.

  He surprised her by asking, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  It wasn’t actually an accusation, but she could feel herself wiggling inside anyway. “Why wouldn’t I?” she wanted to know.

  “Because you’re beautiful, young, cultured and educated. You could write your own ticket to anywhere. And yet, you’re here.” He’d almost slipped and said, “And yet, you came back here,” but he caught himself just in time. She’d be on to him then, because there was no reason for him to know that she had left Shadow Creek years ago and had only recently returned—right after her mother’s escape from prison.

  “I have family here,” she told him. It was the first thing that came into her head. The fact that it was also true and what had motivated her to come back was more than she wanted to say at the moment.

  But apparently Josh was not finished asking his questions.

  “Are you close to your family?” And then, before she could say a word, he surprised her by raising his hand to silence her. “Hold that thought,” he requested. “Do you want dessert?” The question had come out of nowhere.

  In general, she wasn’t a big fan of desserts. It had to be something exceptional. “It all depends on what dessert is,” she told him honestly.

  He smiled. “My thoughts exactly.” Catching their server’s eye, he beckoned him over. Once he was at their table, Josh told him, “The lady and I would like to know what you have on your dessert menu.”

  Obviously prepared for this sort of question, the server recited a number of choices. When he mentioned tiramisu, Josh heard a little sigh escape Leonor’s lips, even though her expression never changed.

  “We’ll have two servings of tiramisu, please,” he told the server.

  The latter nodded. “Very good, sir.” And with that he all but bowed as he retreated, moving backward from the table.

  Leonor looked at Josh. “What made you order that for me?”

  “Easy,” he told her. And then he smiled. “You sighed.”

  She wasn’t aware of making any sound. She’d deliberately concentrated on appearing nonchalant to counteract the fact that she was starting to feel more and more flustered around this art collector she was trying to bring into the fold.

  “I did not,” she protested.

  “Want me to call him back?” Josh offered, pretending to start raising his hand in order to signal to the server. “You can change your order.”

  “No,” she said a bit too quickly. She really did like tiramisu a great deal. “That’s all right.” And then she looked at him a bit closer and said, “You’re very observant.”

  “That’s my art training,” he told her with an easy smile. With the dessert issue settled, Josh focused his full attention on the woman he had singled out as the most likely one to have helped orchestrate Livia’s escape. “You were about to tell me if you were close to your family.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she contradicted. “You just assumed I was going to tell you.”

  He twisted the facts just a little. “Then you’re not close to them,” he guessed “innocently.”

  He was putting words into her mouth, she thought. “I didn’t say that,” she protested.

  His eyes met hers and he looked at her almost soulfully, throwing her off her guard. “What did you say?”

  She didn’t want to jeopardize the artwork or the possible donations that hung in the balance, but she had to get answers to the questions that were occurring to her.

  “Why would you want to know if I’m close to my family or not?” What possible difference could it make to the man?

  The look he gave her was almost pure innocence. “It’s called making conversation. It’s what someone does when they want to get to know someone.”

  Was he actually saying what she thought he was saying? She put the question to him. “And you want to get to know me?”

  He found that he really didn’t have to try too hard to be convincing as he said, “Very much.”

  Damn David, Leonor thought. Damn him for ever coming into her life. If it wasn’t for him, this would seem like the beginning of something really nice. Instead, Leonor found herself being on her guard, afraid of being too trusting. Afraid that whatever she might say to Josh would wind up reappearing online somewhere in a damning article.

  Or worse.

  “Why?” she heard herself challenging him.

  Someone had really done a number on her, Josh thought. Was it because of her mother? Or was all this just a very well-crafted act on her part? He knew which side he wanted to believe, but for the sake of the assignment, he had to proceed cautiously.

  “Well, the standard reason would be because you’re a beautiful woman and anyone would want to get to know more about you,” he told her. “But I’ve also got another reason.”

  Okay, here it comes, Leonor thought, bracing herself. This is just another con job. “And that reason would be—?”

  “You’re a curator at the Austin Museum of Art,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m considering having some of my collection displayed there, not to mention that if I’m satisfied with the way they—and I—are treated, I might be interested in making a contribution to the museum itself. Museums can always use contributions,” he told her knowingly. “It’s a given. There’s always something that needs doing, restoring, or building up.” He smiled at her. “Am I right?”

  There was no point in her denying it because it was true. “Yes.”

  Well, that was easy enough, he thought. “Good. Then why don’t we stop shadowboxing with one another, let down our hair and be honest with each other?” he suggested. “I might not be the kind of son my father wished for but he did teach me one thing.” Josh looked into her eyes as he deliberately made his point. “I don’t jump into business associations blindly without knowing exactly who I am dealing with.”

  Leonor inclined her head. She couldn’t very well argue with that. “Makes sense.”

  His smile was victorious. And incredibly seductive. “Thank you. I think so. So,” he said, getting back to his initial question. “Are you close to your family?”

  She used to be, but there was no point in saying that. Just as there was no point in talking about what had suddenly split their family unit at the seams.

  So instead, she merely said, “I’m working on it.” And it was true. She really wanted to be there for the others. Their mother certainly hadn’t been, and as the oldest daughter, she felt that it was up to her to make up for that.

  Josh pretended to think over her words, and then asked, “So, there are hard feelings?”

  To put it mildly. There were members of the family that were angry with her, who believed that she had betrayed them. Those were the ones she was going to have t
o approach one by one and try to win over.

  She thought of the awful blog that had caused the huge schism between them. “Misunderstandings,” she corrected.

  The word could mean anything, he thought. She wasn’t one to admit to anything readily. His instincts told him that she was going to have to be won over slowly—one good deed at a time.

  “Anything I can help with?” he asked.

  She thought the offer strange since they didn’t really know one another. Yet at the same time, it was somehow oddly sweet. Had David not ruined everything the way he had, she might have found herself really drawn to Josh.

  Instead, she said the obvious in response to his offer. “I don’t even know you.”

  He shrugged that away. “This could be a way that we could get to know one another.”

  He had a point and with all her heart, she wished she could just go with it. But fear tethered her. So instead, she decided to toss him a crumb of information and see where he went from there.

  “It’s nothing,” she said with an evasive shrug. “There was a series of installments by a blogger that was less than flattering about the family. Because a lot of personal things were mentioned, some members of the family thought that the information might have come from me.”

  He was neither condemning of her, nor absolving of her family. Josh merely asked her one question, “And did it?”

  Leonor paused for a long moment, debating whether or not to answer him and if so, how to answer him.

  Finally she said, “Let’s just say that I let my guard down and trusted the wrong person.”

  He nodded his head as if conferring with himself. “Ah, that would explain it.”

  She didn’t understand what he was getting at. “Explain what?”

  “That explains why you keep looking at me as if you’re trying to make up your mind whether or not I’m just making conversation—or if I’m mentally taking notes.”

  Her eyes widened. She wondered if he knew just how squarely he’d hit the nail on the head.

  “And?” she asked, curious to see what he was willing to say and just how far he was going to take this analogy.

  “I already told you, I’m just making conversation and trying to get to know you. Trying to find out, for instance,” he added, “what makes you smile.”

  She saw his expression change, as if something suddenly occurred to him. Had the server returned with their desserts?

  She looked over her shoulder, but there was no one there. Turning back to look at Josh, she asked, “What?”

  “I just thought of a way to make you smile. What if I told you that I’ve decided to go with your museum? That I want to have part of my art collection displayed there, say, for the next three months?”

  They really hadn’t discussed that in any sort of length yet. “I’d say that you were prone to making snap judgments.”

  “Not really,” he contradicted. “I do know what I want, though.”

  Why did her heart skip a beat just then? They were talking about art, nothing else. Certainly nothing personal enough to warrant her pulse going up several notches.

  “And what is it that you want?” she asked, watching him carefully, almost afraid of his answer.

  “I want to have a reason to get to know you better. A reason that you find acceptable,” he added.

  Something told her to be careful. A warning system she wished she’d had in place when David was in her life was going off now.

  But then, she thought, maybe she was being overly cautious because of David. It was hard to tell.

  “So, is it a deal?” he wanted to know, telling her what the next step was. “I call my people and have the paintings sent to your museum for display?”

  This was too easy. She’d expected to work a lot harder for this. There had to be a catch.

  “And what is it that you want in exchange?” Leonor asked.

  He grinned. “Right to the point. A woman after my own heart.”

  “No, I’m not after your heart,” she deliberately corrected. This was not going to get personal. This was business. “What I am after is an answer. What do you want in exchange for allowing the museum to display your paintings?”

  “Just the pleasure of your company,” he told her.

  She didn’t believe in fairy tales any more. “And that’s it?”

  He looked at her in all innocence. “That’s it.”

  It didn’t feel right. There was something else going on, something she couldn’t put her finger on. “How naive are the women you deal with?”

  “Not naive at all. As a matter of fact, they’re very calculating.” Which was true. The women he’d had to deal with were just that. He figured that, despite her rather dewy look, Leonor numbered among those calculating women. “That’s why I find you so refreshing,” he continued. “You obviously need my paintings, but you’re not being conniving in order to secure them. Tell you what,” he said as the server approached with their desserts. “Let’s have our desserts, and then go our separate ways. You sleep on what I’ve just said. If you can find something objectionable about it, I’ll tender my apology and you don’t have to see me again. Deal?” he asked, extending his hand to her.

  She couldn’t ask for anything fairer than that, she thought. “Deal.”

  She slipped her hand into his. The moment she did, a warmth descended over her, bringing with it small, electric shock waves that shot all through her.

  She told herself it was just the excitement of securing his paintings for the museum, nothing more. But she knew she was lying to herself because, if she were being honest, there was indeed more.

  A lot more.

  Chapter 8

  When Leonor got back to her suite after what had turned out to be an extra-long, albeit very enjoyable, lunch with Josh, the first thing she did was place a call to her boss. She knew that Adam Sheffield would undoubtedly be anxiously waiting to hear from her.

  To be honest, she was rather surprised that the museum director hadn’t already called her cell phone while she was still at lunch, asking for an update on the situation.

  She was hoping to make this a quick call because lunch with Josh had created another totally unrelated by-product. All that conversation about whether or not she was close to her family had caused her to silently resolve she was going to do everything in her power to make that a reality again—and sooner rather than later.

  She had already, although quite inadvertently, patched things up with Thorne. Not because of any direct action between them on her part, but because her brother had learned that she’d bailed Mac out when he had been faced with foreclosure.

  Heaven knew she hadn’t done that with any sort of an ulterior motive—just as she hadn’t shared her family’s secrets with David Marshall for any sort of gain, financial or otherwise.

  She supposed if she thought about it, one deed did wind up balancing out the other, at least in Thorne’s case. Now what she needed to do was approach each of her siblings, one at a time, and try to find a way to make them understand that she was just as much a victim of this awful betrayal as they were. With every fiber of her being, she needed to get them to forgive her, and she didn’t care how long it took.

  She knew that she would have no peace until that matter was finally settled.

  But first, she had to tell Sheffield about her progress with Pendergrass. Blocking out any other extraneous thoughts, she dialed the man’s private number on her phone.

  There was a slight pause after the call had gone through.

  A moment later, she was counting off the number of times Sheffield’s phone rang. After the fourth time, she heard a tinny voice mechanically begin to give her instructions as to what to do in order to leave Sheffield a message.

  In the midst of it, the instruc
tions abruptly stopped and she heard Sheffield’s gravelly voice bark out what sounded like “Hello?” Static accompanied his less than friendly voice.

  The connection was noticeably poor, but she didn’t have time to call all over again so she just started talking.

  “Mr. Sheffield, this is Leonor Colton.”

  “Leonor!” Sheffield’s voice instantly brightened as a hopeful note entered it. “So, what’s the story?” he asked her eagerly. “Is Pendergrass loaning us some of his paintings?”

  The director didn’t sound a thing like his usual restrained self. Things at the museum had to be worse than she thought, Leonor decided. She was happy to give him the upbeat progress report.

  “Joshua Pendergrass and I spoke at length over lunch today and I’m happy to say that it seems like he’s amendable to displaying some of his art collection at our museum.”

  “I knew I could count on you, Leonor.” Sheffield’s voice swelled with enthusiasm.

  Because of her background, Leonor didn’t like counting on things until after they were signed, sealed and, most importantly, delivered. Until then, things could always go wrong.

  Counting on something could very well wind up jinxing it. Leonor thought of the wedding she’d begun planning in her mind when she’d been so certain that David was going to ask her to marry him. That hadn’t exactly turned out the way she’d wanted it, she thought ruefully.

  “It’s not a done deal yet, sir,” Leonor cautioned the director. But because this was Sheffield and he liked keeping things positive, she added, “But it certainly looks that way.”

  “It will be. Like I told you, I have great faith in you.” She heard the man taking a breath, as if preparing to address another topic. She unconsciously braced herself. Leonor didn’t have long to wait. “Was any mention made of, you know, possible donations?”

  She could almost hear Sheffield crossing his fingers as he asked.

  “Pendergrass did mention that if he was satisfied with the way his collection was being handled during the showings, then he’d be amenable to making donations to the museum.”